She had clearly made a bigger mess of trying to explain herself and she was feeling some frustration with herself that her grasp of the common tongue was not making this easy on her. ”A tent is a family. We all live together, grandparents, uncles and aunts, cousins, children-- Many of us all together. When I was wedded I joined my husband’s tent, and when there was too many of us, our tent broke off from his father’s and we traveled with his brothers and cousins.” She explained, hoping that made sense. To be frank she didn’t know how most societies worked outside of her own, but they appeared different from the Chaktawe that she had seen on occasion in Yaheba. ”Rapa was the oldest member of our tent when we broke off, the wisest of us. Biyram I only know of in story, that he was a man of Yahal. Yahal guided him into Eyktol and gave him many sons, and from his sons came the Benshira people. My father’s blood comes from Biyram’s son Basalom. ” Her mouth formed a tight line as she hoped that made sense. It was hard for her to explain as she was pulling all of her information from a song she had been taught as a girl, but as it was in Shiber she feared it would be lost in translation. ”I don’t think you a savage. It is fine to not know things, as there are many things I still do not know about this place. If you had been in Eyktol and came across my tent, you would have been welcomed with food, dance and company, not turn away for not knowing where my people come from.”
She listened to him quietly and with intense focus as to what he was saying. Enjoyable was apparently not the right word, she had apparently simplified it in the wrong way without meaning to. It was odd to think she had been any sort of example for anything outside of the norm of this city, but that is what she was almost understanding from what he was saying. It was true that the streets were alive and busy through the day, but at least the Akalaks here seemed to take a moment to enjoy the scenery on occasion.
The next part of the conversation made her a little uncomfortable though as he started bringing up the natives. Her body language being something out of her control shifted, her hand playing with the band as she thought of them. ”Perhaps not, they are generous to women when they don’t have to be.” Her smile all but faded for the moment as she tried to box away those thoughts, knowing that if she lingered on it now she would only grow sad when she was enjoying herself so much. Her guest here was fairly quick to help draw her out as he posed her with a question she had not expected.” ”It’s not that I think he could not hear me if I pray inside, I just-- I hope he can hear me better if I am under the same sky that my home is. For me it is more of a comfort to my heart, if that makes sense to you.”
The longer she sat and talked with this man the more she found herself enjoying herself. It really had been a long time since she had had a good conversation and it was good for her heart to have this.
Her smile finally returned upon hearing her god’s name, and nodded to Orin’s question. ”Yes! I was praying to Yahal that he might give me strength. I have no temple here, no priest or priestess, so there is no way that I might appeal to him in that sense, so I do what I can by giving him praise from my lips. He is a god of light and purity and he has given me hope in dark days.” She explained lightly. She was rather curious about his Priskil he spoke of, this goddess who he had both claimed and denied. ”I suppose if that makes her happy and gives you peace that is all that matters. If it troubles you though, perhaps the ones who tend her temple can give you guidance?” She suggested innocently until his panic caught her off guard. ”No, you are fine. I finished with my prayers, I will sing my songs later when I need the strength.” She assured him, not wanting to scare him off. Of course, even if he had interrupted her she wouldn’t have admitted it and be rude to her guest.
She paused herself for a moment, not wanting him to get lost as she tried to explain.”Yes, Eyktol is a desert, I do not know if there are more like it in this world nor do I know how to get back there from here. I followed others here and never saw the charting done. She had hoped that had cleared up some questions but that only seemed to feed him more questions and give her questions as well. Wanting to curb any confusion before it grew too late she quickly shook her head as she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. It was no miracle that they survived there, nor did she want him to believe that it was possible to live out there by yourself. ”The desert is very dangerous, it is not to be taken lightly. Water is precious, food is scarce, and many things will hurt you.” Oddly enough she started picking at her blanket in the dim light, carefully trying to single out a strand of the yarn in it. ”This is me. I am but one thread that lived in the desert, but--” she paused just long enough to smooth the fibers back together, making hard to tell the one thread from the others. ”You are not alone out there. There are many of us that make up a tent. We each had our jobs to do out there, and together we lived. When we lost a strand or two in the weave of our community we could live on and eventually replace those threads. The reason I am here now is because we lost too many threads, the weave unravel.” There was a distinct sadness in her eyes as she recalled the family she had lost that day. She had never truly understood why masha had been called just that until now when everyone was gone. They really were weaving it seemed, it was no wonder to her now why masha was so important to them. ”The city of Yahebah in Eyktol is very nice, but it was not home for us. I have always lived where we have traveled the desert for most of the year. My father’s tent we looked for clay and herbs to sell and trade when we returned to the city in the fall season. My husband’s tent we tended goats and sheep in the desert and came back with new heads to sell as well as the goods we made from the wool and milk.” She smiled weakly at the memory, her heart aching for those times again. She was a child of the desert and she felt like she was withering here. She missed the taste of desert herbs and goat cheese, she missed her days being filled with working with her family and the nights of singing and playing together. She was silent for a moment in her thoughts before her question came up in her mind again which she had to ask. ”It pains me to remember what I have had and what I have lost, but I am happy to share and hope speaking of them will bring them some rest. I must ask though, what is Syliras? I am not familiar with that name. I am afraid I do not know much of this world beyond Eyktol and these walls.
She found the words he offered to be a small comfort. It wasn’t a blessing from a priest, but heartfelt words were just as powerful. If there is life then there is hope. It was a beautiful thought which did correlate with the idea that perhaps there was some reason why she was still alive, some reason for the trials of life she had been through. Or perhaps that was just her humanity that was searching for that reason in what was really just natural chaos. ”If that is the words your goddess would offer than yes, I suppose her and Yahal do sounds like they have hearts with the same mind.” Or at least she hoped she was under the right mindset, it wasn’t like she was a daughter or Rapa and knew her god that well or this Priskil. His words went on to comfort her, and she realized that perhaps she should take her own words of advice on the topic of prayer. ”Perhaps he can, and I do practice my faith indoors, but it does feel nice to know my words are reaching the sky.”
What was perhaps the most shocking thing to her was the idea of a goddess not wanting worship. Even stranger still was the idea that this Priskil sought friendship of all things, and with mortals? Was this really true? ”Are mortals like us really capable of such friendships? We live but a drop in what is the pool that is life. What could we possibly offer her with friendship?” She asked with genuine curiosity, even leaning in a little without much thought put into the action. She mulled on that for a moment wondering what friendship with a goddess would be like or if there were others who sought friendship with their followers. ”Well I would call this a act of charity right now. You have spared your time and kind words to speak with me which I am grateful for.” She put out there, ”Charity does not have to be a big thing, I have always thought that even small things like time and words can mean more than coins in the right situation. It is not for us to decide what makes the biggest impact on a person’s life.”
Hearing what this goddess stood for only made her want to know more about her, and she wondered if Yahal would be angry if she did this or not. Oddly enough Orin seemed to be in the same mindset, talking and musing out loud about the things the gods thought and so on. Seeing Orin smile made hers grow, offing up a small laugh of her own. ”I fear I am not innocent on that matter either. I’m every bit as guilty as you are in this.”
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